Running For Another's Life
by Military Mechanic
Summary: For years, the Elric brothers have just barely been scraping by. They have adapted and worked out a system - one providing them with just enough resources to get by. Things are fine...Until Edward is pulled out of class one day only to be given the news that his younger brother was sent to the hospital and money is suddenly a very big issue. Then he hears about The Race. AU
1. Open Your Eyes

A/N: so, this is the story i've decided to work on first. i've got a pretty good handle on the plot, though it'll take a while to get it good and actiony. yes, i do consider that a word. :D this was actually a really fun chapter to write, and i hope to hear that you all enjoyed it. if it didn't capture your interest, by all means, tell me so that i can improve!

also, this is an AU-universe, so don't be offended by the lapse in continuities. it will eventually turn into a high-school AU, though that's obviously going to be a few chapters off. hope to see you all stick with me until then!

* * *

"Momma! Momma!" Edward squeels, racing down the stairs of his house. One hand clutches the railing as he goes, the other is clenched around something small and fragile, holding his find close to his chest.

In the kitchen, Trisha looks up from the sink she was loading and turns towards the door. Waits patiently for her eldest son to burst in, then offers him a smile and a tilt of her head.

"What is it, Ed?" She asks, wiping her sudsy hands off on her apron before walking over to her son. She bends down just as he opens up his hand, holding the precious creature out to her.

"It's a grasshopper!" Edward tells her, and behind him, Alphonse pokes his head into the kitchen. "I found it in Al's bed!"

Said boy nods frantically, refusing to set foot inside of the brightly lit room. Two chubby hands clutch at the door-jam, honey brown eyes watching the green insect that his brother is so enthralled with.

Trisha cannot help but laugh.

-x-x-x-

"Now what, Mom?" Edward asks, peering up at the brunnette woman next to him.

Trisha smiles, eyes raking across the book propped on the back of the counter. It's sitting open, one page revealing the recipe for a chocolate cake, the other giving instructions on how to bake chocolate chip cookies. They are simple recipes, really, but she has not baked in so long.

Not since her husband left, almost five years ago. She just hasn't been able to bring herself to do it - but Edward had been so excited when he thought up the idea of baking a cake for his brother's upcoming birthday. She just couldn't tell him _no_.

"Go get us two eggs please, Ed." She instructs, then busies herself with pulling the flour from its space on the back of the counter.

As she counts out the scoops needed, her eldest son gleefully hops down from the stool he was standing on and rushes over to the fridge. Moments later, he is clambering back up the step-stool and cracking the two eggs into the bowl.

"Like that?" he asks, beaming up at his mother with wide, golden eyes.

"Just like that." Trisha assures him, and she gives him a gentle smile in return.

She cannot believe that Edward is already seven.

-x-x-x-

"What? But we have to have eggs!" Edward whines, voice full of dissapointment. In an effort to prove his mother wrong, he squeezes his way between her and the fridge to search for the elusive product himself.

The container where they normally deposit their eggs is empty. In fact, most of their fridge is bare. Just essentials, no embellishments. If he were older, this might strike Edward as odd. But he's only nine and, at the moment, his only thought is on the fact that without eggs they can't bake a cake.

And they always bake Alphonse a cake for his birthday!

Distraught, he turns his wide eyes onto his mother. Doesn't notice how her own eyes are shot through with red and rimmed with black, nor does he see how her skin is almost deathly pale.

"Mom! We need to get eggs!" Edward says, waving one hand at the empty refridgerator.

Trisha is silent for a moment, debating the risks of getting behind the wheel in her condition. They are high, she knows, but the store is also just down the road and, though slightly cloudy out, the weather is still good.

So she nods ascent and then slowly, carefully, crosses to the hook that she keeps her keys hung on.

"Alright, Ed." she says, voice soft and weak. "Let's go get eggs."

-x-x-x-

By the time that they leave the super-market, Trisha's ever-constant headache has risen to a new level. It feels as though someone has crawled inside of her and is pounding away at her brain, striking it time and time again.

She almost falls on the way to the car, and if she had remembered to grab her cell-phone before leaving the house she would have called someone else to come get them. But that is still in her bedroom drawer, just like her bottle of medicine, and she doesn't have enough change for the pay phone.

Cannot bring herself to ask a stranger for assitance.

And, really, home is just around the corner.

"Put the groceries in the back, Ed." Trisha tells her son, and her voice shakes when he does. Edward does as he's told, then pauses before getting in the car.

"Mom?" He asks, narrowing his sharp eyes at her. "Are you okay?"

And he looks just like his father, right then. Sounds just like him too. It is unbelievable really, and Trisha has to blink hard to keep the tears from spilling over. Bites her lip and just nods at her son, then she pats the seat beside her - because she doesn't trust herself to speak. Not without crying.

"Really? I get to sit up front?" Edward doesn't wait for an answer, just clambers into the passenger seat and pulls the door shut behind him. Without even having to be told, he hooks his seatbelt and then settles down, all worries forgotten.

-x-x-x-

She is so tired and her head hurts so badly.

Home is less then a mile away. Just a little bit longer, Trisha tells herself, then she can get inside and lay down. Take some medicine and relax. Maybe even get a shower, if her body feels up to it.

She is so tired. Her head hurts horribly.

In the seat beside her, Edward is fidgiting. Something isn't right with his mother, that much he knows. She never looks like this or acts like this. The car is never silent when it's just the two of them - yet she hasn't uttered a single word since they left the parking lot. Not once. So he followes her example and doesn't say anything either. Just stares at her with worry filled eyes.

She is so tired. Her vision is blurring.

Trisha doesn't realize it when her car swerves into the wrong lane. Just knows that the pain in her head has spiked and that she cannot breath right. Vaguely, she can hear Edward screaming beside her. Someone honks and the skid of tires echoes in her mind - then there is a sharp sting in her chest and nothing more.

She is so tired. Her eyes close and never again open.


	2. He's Burning Inside

A/N: okay, here's the deal. don't expect me to have double-updates like this often. i'm just trying to generate interest in this story so that i can get some feed-back. capische? good.

* * *

"Where is he?" Pinako demands, and her voice is sharp and angry. Despite the fact that she is clearly moving on in age and small of stature, the staff at the hospital answer her question with as much speed as they can.

"S-second floor, fifth door on the left." The young man stutters, and he shifts uncomfortably behind his desk. He doesn't need to ask who she is demanding to see, because everyone was informed about her arrival already.

Pinako Rockbell is there to see her nephew. Clutching her dark green skirt is a young boy with a tear-stained face and soft brown eyes, there to see his older brother.

When she huffs and turns on her heel, heading straight for the elevator, no one even tries to stop her.

-x-x-x-

"What do you mean he's in surgery?" she demands, and one hand slaps the wall beside her. Pinako can feel Alphonse clench her skirt harder but, for the moment, she pays the child no mind. Her sharp blue eyes are locked on the nurse in front of her instead.

And the nurse clearly doesn't know what to say. Not to this harried woman with such a reputation. To someone that the hospital deals with regularly, whenever someone wants an outside opinion or automail or merely just to speak with someone who has already lost all they had.

Pinako is not someone to trifle with.

So, despite the nurse's usual instructions to wait for a doctor, she merely offers an apologetic nod in the direction of the waiting room and tells the truth; "he would be dead by now if they didn't start when they did. A doctor will talk with you shortly."

Then she does all that she can to rush away, not wanting to be stuck with the elderly Rockbell's wrath.

-x-x-x-

Alphonse doesn't like hospitals, it turns out. The sterile air bothers his nose, the lack of color makes him squirm, the stiffness all around him brings out a longing to clench his brothers hand. Just like he always does when he's afraid. Just like Edward has promised him he will always be able to do.

Except...Edward isn't there. He's in _surgury_, or so his Aunt Pinako has told him. The doctor's are trying to make him better. To save him. To make up for the fact that they were unable to get to his mother in time.

Yes, he knows that she is dead. His aunt has already told him that. Way back when she first came tearing into his driveway, demanding that he get in the car and behave.

Alphonse hadn't even been able to change out of his pajamas. Just grabbed his shoes and raced after her, barely getting hooked into his seat before the car started to move.

It was his birthday and his mother always let him spend it in his pajamas. She never let him leave the house like that though, not even to go to the back yard.

So he asked where she was and Pinako told him.

Alphonse hadn't spoken since then, save when he tearfully asked about his brother.

-x-x-x-

They sit there in the waiting room for five hours.

The hard corners of the plastic chairs dig into Alphonse skin and he squirms in his chair constantly. Doesn't speak though, doesn't dare to. Not until his brother comes out.

Pinako's mind is too fogged to notice the young child's discomfort. She folds her hands in her lap and stares across the room, eyes locked onto the bare wall. In the white paint, she can clearly see the faces of her family.

Her son.

Her daughter-in-law.

Her brother, Hoeinhiem.

Her sister-in-law.

All dead. All gone - and leaving behind three young children, none old enough to take care of themselves yet. No other family but herself, no one else for the State to call for. She has already taken in Winry and, though she loves the two Elric boys with all her heart, she knows that she cannot take care of two more mouths.

-x-x-x-

"Miss Rockbell?" the doctor calls, and he doesn't even need to look at the clip-board tucked under his arm. Knows full well who he is looking for and which woman she is, just doesn't want to approach her. Half hopes that she is asleep over there, to match the young boy curled up in her lap.

His hopes are dashed when hawk-like eyes latch onto him, and the elderly lady forces the child off of her. He doesn't complain, but he does latch onto the dark green fabric of her skirt, pulling himself close to her once she is standing.

Almost as though he's afraid to let go, the doctor muses.

Pinako crosses the near-empty room in just a few strides. When she stands in front of the taller man, she crosses both arms over her chest and scowls. "It's about time someone comes to tell me what's going on!"

"I'm very sorry for the wait, ma'am. I'm Doctor Trent, and I'm supervising young Edward's case." Trent offers a slight smile but keeps his hands firmly to himself. Something tells him that, even if he were to offer one, she would no doubt refuse to shake it.

"That's all fine and dandy, but I frankly don't care who you are." Pinako huffs. "And I'm still waiting for someone to tell me _why exactly_ my nephew is in surgery."

Trent doesn't even attempt to hide the sorrow on his face. This is a child he's speaking about after all, and there is nothing more depressing than telling someone that a child may not make it.

"Well?" Pinako demands.

At the same time, Alphonse cranes his head to look up at the older man. "Will my brother be okay, mister?"

And it feels as though Trent's heart shatters right then and there.


	3. Have To Go On

A/N: heh, thanks for the reviews, everyone! they were great! really inspired me to get this chapter written - and i hope that you all enjoy it! as always, i live off of reviews!

in a new note, i have a poll up on my profile that i would love for you all to take part in. helping me decide on pairings. :D

* * *

Fire. That is all the Edward knows. Fire and pain and scorching heat. Beneath that fire is a lingering worry, though for the life of him he cannot figure out _why_ he's worried.

It has something to do with his mother, he thinks, or maybe with Alphonse's birthday.

The fire never lets his mind figure it out though, always raging just beneath his skin where nothing he does can put it out. Where he knows only darkness, only pain, only fire.

-x-x-x-

When Alphonse announces that he doesn't want to go home until his brother is well, Pinako is not surprised. She is, however, very stern on the fact that he _cannot_ do that.

Alphonse cries.

Pinako sighs, rubs her aching eyes, and decides that, yes, she is too old to go through this again. So she makes a compromise.

"I'll bring you here every day after school, Alphonse, so long as your grades do not slip." she tells him. Alphonse swears that they won't - then he rushes over to his brothers bed, ignores the swathes of bandages that seem to engulf his body, and plasters a kiss right on the older boy's forehead.

"I'll be back tomorrow, brother!" Alphonse promises.

And he is. Alphonse returns to that hospital room every day after school for the next two months.

-x-x-x-

Edwards first few days of being awake are nothing short of excruitaing. He cannot move. Cannot speak. Can barely think - all that his mind registers is the pain that engulfs his body and the fact that he cannot feel one of his arms. Or maybe it's both arms he can't feel? Maybe it's his whole body?

Honestly, he cannot tell. Only that something is missing. Something that _should_ be there but isn't. In the fog-filled haze that the morphine leaves him in, he cannot work out the truth.

Everytime his heavy-lidded eyes flutter open though, Alphonse is right there next to him. One small hand clutching Edward's own pale hand, the other gripping his pants leg. Worry is clear on his face, easily identified by the way the younger boy is always biting down on his bottom lip, in the fact that he doesn't speak. Not once.

But that's fine, really, because Edward isn't sure that he can speak either.

-x-x-x-

Eventually, he figures out what is missing. It is late at night and he is completely alone, visiting hours having ended long ago. Despite the medicine that is being pumped into his veins, the constant burning keeps Edward awake.

The room is dark. Everywhere he looks, there is a shadow. A shape that shouldn't be there. Something scratches at the window. Something inside of the bathroom, barely visible through the darkness, _moves_.

Edward cannot reach the dark red button that calls his nurse. So he struggles to roll over in the bed, mind not registering that a task simple as that shouldn't be so hard. Then he tries to reach out and grab the device - except that his left arm will not move, no matter how much he tries.

So, for the first time, Edward really stops and looks at himself.

His scream sends every nurse in the vacinity running.

-x-x-x-

Much to everyone's surprise, Edward doesn't cry. After his innitial terror at finding out he has lost two of his limbs, _amputated_ his aunt informs him stoicly, he shows no sign of it even bothering him. Ignores the fact, really, and acts as though everything is fine. Goes so far as to smile at Alphonse the next time the younger boy comes in to visit.

Pinako is not fooled. In her nephew, she can clearly see her missing brother. The same sheen of determination in his golden eyes. The same worry for others over himself. The same urge to _protect his family_ no matter the consequences.

Edward looks just like Hoenhiem did as a child. Acts just like the missing scientist did as an adult.

This realization doesn't make her happy, however. Instead, it sends her heart plummeting. Hoenhiem did not lead a happy life, Pinako knows, no matter what he said. And if this boy, so young, too young, is already taking on the same role as his father...Then he will not lead a happy life either.

-x-x-x-

"Hey, Auntie?" Edward asks one day, nearly three months after he is committed to the hospital.

The elderly woman looks up from the magazine she is reading, sharp eyes locking onto the young Elric. His skin is pallid, drawn tight against his face. Dark circles ring his eyes, which do not burn with the same fire they once did. The bandage once wrapped around his forehead has been removed, but in it's place remains a jagged scar.

It will always be there, the doctors say, caused by the glass of the shattered windshield.

In the bed made for a full grown adult, Edward looks as though he is drowning. The stark, white sheets drape over him, covering the damage done to his remaining leg. It does not, however, cover the damage done to his upper body.

There was a complication in the surgery and more of his left arm had to be taken off then originally anticipated. Now, there was nothing more than a stump of bandaged flesh protruding from his shoulder. Barely enough to be called an arm, never enough to be used for anything.

"What is it, brat?" Pinako questions, forcing her voice not to waver. It hurts seeing her family like this, but she knows that showing how hard it is on her will not help this young boy.

A lapse of silence. Then, with nothing short of despair in his eyes, Edward looks at her. Shifts slightly under the covers. Makes sure that Alphonse has not come back into the room from his trip down the hall.

Then asks, in a small and trembling voice; "mom's dead, isn't she?"

And Pinako doesn't have it in her to lie to the boy. "Yes, Edward. She's dead."

-x-x-x-

"I'm not changing my mind, lady!" Edward snarls, forcing his trembling arm to co-operate and allow him to sit up in the bed.

Across from him, the nurse in charge that evening just stares. Has never been instructed on how to deal with a situation like this because, really, there has never been a case of a child this young demanding to have automail.

Most people would rather be bound to a wheel-chair then go through that pain. All children would.

"Dear, I think that you need to think this through more." she tells him, slender lips curling down into a frown. "Automail is a big decision and, once you have it, you can't get rid of it. I know it might look cool but-"

She is cut off by Edward using his one remaining arm to slap his hand down on the table beside his bed. The actions sends a jolt of pain through his spine and he grimaces, but the soon turns into a glare directed at Nurse Elza.

"I don't _need_ to think about, Lady." Edward tells her, and for a nine year-old boy his voice is steely and cold. "I just need you to go get my aunt or whoever it is that you have to tell and get the surgery planned. Understand?"

Elza pauses, then nods and turns to leave. She has no intention of actually going through with his demands, though she will alert his aunt. Let the older woman to talk this silly delusion out of the young childs head, she decides, as she's probably the one that put it there in the first place.

She doesn't realize that this isn't a spurr of the moment decision on Edward's part, but the only way he can see to keep his younger brother with him.


	4. Have To Stay Strong

A/N: almost 400 people have read this! i'm so beyond ecstatic! can you all believe that so many people have read this? i couldn't. i mean...it just astounds me! :D makes me feel loved, actually. so thank you everyone - those that have read, reviewed, and favorited this story. thank you very, very much.

as always, any sort of critique is loved. now, enjoy!

also, for the purpose of this story, Edward's loses his left arm. :D

* * *

Automail is not a foreign thing in this country. It is considered top of the line technology - a prosthetic limb attached directly to ones nerves, one that works just as a regular limb would. Fingers can bend, toes can curl, and joints can move. Something that no other country has, even in the vast world around Amestris.

Even in Xing, whose people are known for their prowess in medicine.

No, this is something unique to Amestriss. Something that they have been developing for years and a procedure that has saved many a life. Especially after the Ishbal-Amestris war, when so many soldiers were caught in explosions that left them maimed.

Yet, despite the wonders this procedure can produce, it isn't a common thing. In fact, many find the practice to be cruel. Despicable, even.

Why? For the simple fact that, no matter the age of the patient or extent of the wounds, not a single drop of anestia can be used during the surgery. Otherwise, the nerve-endings won't be connected right. It will be a useless endevor and do nothing but cause more pain for the patient.

That, Pinako supposes, is why the staff at the hospital have suddenly begun to give her the cold shoulder. Because she has agreed to give her nine year-old nephew not one but two automail limbs.

-x-x-x-

Just before they move into a new room for the surgery, Pinako walks over to Edward's bed. Looks at him with her dark blue eyes, pale lips drawn tight, and asks a question without words.

"I'm positive, Auntie." Edward tells her, but he refuses to meet her eyes. "It's got to be done."

"I'm not argueing with you, Edward." Pinako tells him, and she folds her hands behind her back to stop them from fidgiting. "I'm only asking to hear your reasoning."

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

"Because..." Edward says softly. Pauses and takes a deep breath, then turns blazing golden eyes onto the aged woman beside him. "Because if I don't, then I could lose Al too! You can't take care of us both, Auntie, I know that you can't. And I can't take care of Al if I can't walk on my own or do anything that needs to be done. So if I, I mean, when I get automail, then I can take care of him on my own, right? No one can take him from me?"

Ah. That's right. Child-services only recently came to speak with the two Elric boys and their impromptu gaurdian. Stated that, until Edward was sixteen years-old, Alphonse had to be either a ward of the state or listed as a foster child of Pinako's. That, if Edward was ever proven to be an unfit gaurdian, then they would remove his younger brother from the house and send him to live in a State Home.

Explained in more gentle words that they would be back soon to find out what decision the trio had made.

Whatever thought process the young boy's mind had gone through somehow came up with the train of thought that being disabled left him unfit to ever take gaurianship of Alphonse.

Pinako never tells him that he's correct. Merely nods and then goes to make sure that Winry and Alphonse have enough money for lunch.

-x-x-x-

It takes seven hours to perform the surgery on Edward Elric.

Much to everyone's amazement, he doesn't scream. Not once. Not even when they install the metal port into his shoulder, clamping the heavy casting onto bone.

Much to everyone's relief, he passes out only two hours in. The surgery goes smoothly after that, with Pinako Rockbell's hands leading the way. Despite working on a member of her family, they are steady and swift and her tounge is no sharper than usual.

But then, every member of the staff involved in the surgery is doing their best to get _everything_ correct on the first try.

None of them want to lose their jobs, after all.

-x-x-x-

Edward does not wake up for almost a full week after the surgery. He is back in that horrid place, where all he knows is fire and flames and heat. It lays just beneath his skin, capturing him in a world of burning pain and never ending darkness, leaving him unable to even scream.

In the distance recesses of his mind, Edward thinks that he should try harder to wake up. Someone's waiting for him, he thinks, and they're probably worried.

Then a new wave of terror and fire hits him and he is pulled down, ever deeper, into what can only be described as Hell.

-x-x-x-

"A-auntie?" Edward whispers, and the word comes out as little more than a raspy gasp. His throat is dry and tounge heavy, lips slightly chapped from disuse.

In her chair on the other side of the room, Pinako's head jerks up. There is surprise in her eyes and she seems to be frozen - for good reason, as the young boy in front of her should still be unconscious. Shouldn't wake up for another week at least, maybe even longer then that.

But there he is, staring at her out of the corner of one eye, unable to do so much as lift his head.

_Weak and helpless_.

"You're awake?" she asks, then she gives a small shake of her head and lays down the book she had been reading. Of course he is awake. He's an Elric, after all. Incapable of actually resting, actually listening to a doctor's orders.

There is a lapse of silence and Edward's eyes narrow, mouth drawing into a tight line. His entire body seems to flush. Then he jerks and lets out a gasp of pain - and Pinako is at his side quicker than anyone thought possible, body still nimble despite her old age.

"Edward? Where does it hurt, boy?" she demands. "The arm or the leg?"

No answer. Just the steady trembling of a body in too much pain, too much torment. Blood is starting to seep through the thick layer of bandages that are wrapped around Edward's left shoulder, right where the port has been bolted to skin.

The arm then, Pinako decides, and she is already reaching for the button to call a nurse in. More pain medication is needed, as are new bandages.

Before her finger touches the small, red circle though, Edward forces his eyes back open. They are bleary looking now, the gold clouded over with both pain and exhaustion, but they still manage to find her own blue ones.

"Auntie?" Edward asks. "Why can't I move my new arm?"

Pinako feels faintly sick.

-x-x-x-

END


	5. Fighting To Live

A/N: yes, we are almost to the action. i promise. just...one, maybe two more chapters. enjoy what's written please!

oh, and a special shout-out! Zeekyboogydoog? you're the best! that review was brilliant!

* * *

Automail, Edward quickly learns, is a difficult thing to master. So much of what he knows must be erased and then relearned. Even the simple things. The things that have been second nature to him for years and years, that he no longer needs to think about to accomplish.

Every day, the young boy wakes up and that is the first thing on his mind.

_What will need to be changed today,_ he wonders, _what will I need to work on?_

It's determination in his thoughts though, not defeat. Because, every evening right at six o'clock, his younger brother comes running into the hospital room; and Alphonse is always smiling, always excited to see him, always acting as though he were afraid he would come in and just _not see him_.

So, when the doctors tell him he will not be able to be discharged for three years, Edward promptly gnashes his teeth together. Pulls his young face into the most effective snarl that he can. Does his best to curl the new metal fingers he has been given, despite the pain that courses through his body when he does, and promptly tells them; "_I'll be out of here in one."_

They shake their heads at him but they don't argue.

-x-x-x-

_My name is Edward Elric._

_My name is Edward Elric._

_My name is Edward Elric._

Over and over and over again, he writes the sentence down. Sheet after sheet of paper is given to him, each one filled up with the same scrawled sentence. The words are barely readable, each letter shaky and written at an angle, several times over-lapping.

His once perfect hand-writing, which his father had always been so proud of...It is gone. Replaced by the fact that he can no longer be left-handed - for an automail hand is not able to accomplish something as delicate as writing. The pencil would snap, the words become completely elligble.

Instead, he must learn how to write with his other hand. Learn to be right-handed.

_My name is Edward Elric._

_My name is Edward Elric._

_My name is Edward Elric._

His hand slips, fingers unused to the delicate work. The nib of the pencil goes streaking acros the page, leaving a bold line behind it and destroying the progress Edward has made. For a moment, the golden haired boy just stares at it. Then he lets out a pained whine and flings the pencil across the room.

It hits a wall and snaps in two.

A moment passes. Then his aunt is at his bedside, a patient look on her creased face, and he finds a new pencil in his flesh hand.

Edward puts the tip against the page and then he writes.

_My name is-_

-x-x-x-

His steps are unsteady. Painful. Hesitant. One gives off the distinct slap of skin against linolium, one lets out a dull _clank_. Metal on floor. The sound is uneven and, in more ways than one, it is disturbing.

Mostly because it comes from a ten year-old boy that is struggling down the hall, both hands pressed tight against the white wall of the hospital. His face is tight with determination - or, his aunt muses from her place several feet in front of him, it is tight with pain.

Maybe both. Likely both.

"Come on now, Edward." she says, her voice coaxing. "A few more steps."

One, two, three, and then his flesh leg gives way. The metal one buckles only seconds afterwards, sending him tumbling to the ground. He lets out a gasp as the breath rushes from his body, his good hand and his chin stinging from the impact.

Pinako is at his side in an instant, as are two nurses. Irritated, she shoos them off then turns her attention to the boy laying in front of her. "Edward? Should we rest?"

She knows the answer already. It will be the same one he always gives her, as unchanging as the brightness in his eyes when Alphonse comes to visit.

Edward shakes his head and bites his lip. Then he gathers his shaking limbs underneath him and slowly starts to get to his feet.

-x-x-x-

"Gently." Pinako instructs.

Edward tunes her out. Slowly gathers his strength and forces his automail arm to move. Does his best to control the force with which he closes his fingers - and, for the first time in nearly seven months, manages to pick up the glass of water without shattering it.

Pinako smiles at him, basking in the glow of pride that comes from her nephews face.

-x-x-x-

Edward is discharged from the hospital one year, one month, and three days after being admitted.

Not a single doctor there can understand how it happens. Pinako Rockbell merely gives them all a curt nod, a slight smirk, and ushers her nephew out the door and into the car.


	6. Hiding Away

A/N: and, now, we begin to get to the good stuff. i hope that no one minded all the plot-build up i did? it's my favorite way to write multi-chapter stories, and i just couldn't see this one working without it. had to get everything all explained and stuff.

so, before you read the story, i have two announcements to make. first! the previous poll i had up in my profile has been taken down - at the moment, the scheduled pairing for this story is Roy/Ed, due to those voters. it may change however, based on both your reviews and how i feel when we get into later parts of the story. it may just stay friendship. let me know your thoughts in a review?

second, i want to give another thank you to Zeekyboogdoog! the reviews i recieve from him/her are simply fantastic and, really, they make my day. they are also the reasons that i was able to over-come writer's block and get this story up, so i hope you all enjoy.

* * *

For the first three months, Pinako allows Alphonse and Edward Elric to share her guest bedroom. They are good boys, really, just like she expected. Raised well by their mother and taught only the best manners, especially the youngest one who is oh-so-eager to help with anything and everything that he can.

Most days, Edward spends his time walking up and down the stairs of her house. One step at a time, flesh hand tight around the railing, eyes narrowed in concentration. When he reaches the top he beams at his younger brother, who is always close by, catches his breath, then turns and starts back down it.

The rare occasion that he isn't trying to get full control of his new leg, he spends curled up on Pinako's dark red couch with Winry and Alphonse. The younger boy will be curled up against his elder brothers side, hands clutching shirt, and listening eagerly. Winry always sits on the floor in front of them, legs crossed and arms propping herself up.

Edward? He reads to them, with slow and precise words. Never stumbling or stuttering, bright eyes never leaving the page before him.

These times find Pinako standing in the doorway of her living room, not quite sure whether she should cry or laugh. In the end, she usually decides to just return to the kitchen and finish making dinner.

Alone.

-x-x-x-

"Hey Auntie?" Edward asks one day, looking up from the silverware he is laying out on the table.

From her spot at the stove, Pinako gives a soft _'hmm'._

The boy sets a slightly dented knife down at his seat, then turns around and looks straight at the older woman. Determination is alight in his eyes - and by now, that is such a familiar look for him.

"When are you going to send us off?" he asks, straight to the point. Just like always.

Pinako freezes. Pulls the spoon out of her pot and lays it down on the dark cream counter, then turns and frowns at her nephew. "Excuse me? What are you going on about, brat?"

"I'm not blind, Auntie." Edward says, and his voice softens just a little bit. "You can't raise all of us here. It's driving you crazy. You said so yourself back at the hospital, that you couldn't do it for long. So, how long do we have?"

Looking at him there, face alight but shoulders tense, Pinako realizes something. The young boy she used to delight in having come visit her? Who would wrestle on the floor with her dog, Den, and race Winry in the back yard?

He's gone. In his place is an already worn-out adult, trapped in the body of a child.

-x-x-x-

By the next week, they have worked out a deal. Edward and Alphonse will live just down the street, in a small house that has been up for rent for as long as she can remember. Pinako will foot the bill for power, water, and heat. The boys have to provide money for their own food and their own splurges; anything that is not a complete necisity.

Pinako and Edward will split the cost of his medicine, which he will have to take three times a day, every day, for the rest of his life.

Once a day, Winry is required to stop in and check on them. Once a week, Pinako will come over for dinner. They are welcome at her house any time they need it and are to come to her the moment they have _any _trouble.

-x-x-x-

School life must continue. Both boys are required by law to attend school and, if Edward wants to take his brother on as a charge, then he must complete highschool.

So every day, the oldest Elric drags himself out of bed. He ignores the ever-constant ache of his muscles and stumbles down the stairs to turn on the coffee pot - which has become a constant in his life like nothing else. As soon as he has his first cup, filled with sugar but no cream and no milk, he starts the day.

Two bowls of oatmeal are set out on the table, as well as two glasses of orange juice. A sandwhich is packed for each of them, as well as a banana for himself and a pudding for his younger brother, and put in seperate paper bags. In his messy scrawl, he labels each one.

_Alphonse Elric._

_Edward Elric._

Then he pours himself a second cup of coffee and wanders over to the sink. There are seven pill bottles on the back of the sink, and Edward has to stretch to reach them. He pulls three of them down, knocking a fourth in the sink.

"Stupid pills." he grumbles, snatching the fallen bottle up and tossing them all on the table.

He has to eat before he can take them, so he stumbles back up the stairs and rouses his brother first.

"Al, c'mon. Time to wake up." Ed mutters, using his flesh hand to shake the younger boys shoulder. He is always afraid to touch Alphonse with his automail hand, afraid that he will squeeze too hard and hurt the tawny haired boy.

Alphonse mutters something in his sleep and rolls over. Another shake and then he is opening sleep-heavy eyes and smiling up at his brother.

"Morning, Al." Edward chirps, and all the aches and pains that he lives with are shoved to the back of his mind. To a place where he hopes they will stay until, once again, his brother looks away and he doesn't have to hide.

"Morning, brother!" Alphonse says happily, then tosses off the sheets and flings his arms around the golden haired boys neck in a tight hug. "Sleep good?"

Ed nods. "Yeah, I slept fine. What about you?"

Alphonse nods - and as he sweeps the boy out of bed, Edward wonders how old Alphonse will be when he realizes that his older brother is a liar.

-x-x-x-

At one point in time, Edward actually had friends at school. A lot of them, actually, who enjoyed sitting with him at lunch and playing with on the playground. Who always argued over being his partner in gym and never gave him funny looks if he said he wanted to swing by and check on his little brother.

Now though, after his surgery and his year of abscence, Edward finds himself alone at school.

He is exempt from gym on most days, as the skin around his ports are still fragile and easily busted open. At lunch, he finds Alphonse and sits at his table with the younger Elric's friends - because he still has a bright personality and was quickly welcomed back by his classmates. On the playground, Edward sits alone.

One boy, Heymans Breda, doesn't ignore Edward. In fact, he actually tries to keep up his long-standing friendship with the oldest Elric child.

But things have changed and, honestly, Edward feels like he doesn't have time for friends anymore.

-x-x-x-

The day of his twelth birthday, Edward aqcuires his first job. It's a simple paper route that he takes before school and he makes a meager six senze a day.

But it is something real and steady and helpful, so he clings onto it with every last ounce of energy that he has.


	7. Don't Turn Around

A/N: Look! I'm still alive! And I hope this chapter makes up for the absence. :D

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Alphonse is fourteen years old when he gets his first job. It's a paper route, just like Edward's was. Six senze a day, every day. It requires him to wake up two hours earlier, even on weekends.

Without fail, Edward is already downstairs and waiting for him. There are two bowls of oatmeal sitting on the table, two glasses of orange juice, and two paper bags; names scrawled on each one. His older brother is always waiting at the table, hair mussed and eyes half-lidded, as he hunches over a cup of coffee.

"Morning, brother." Alphonse chirps, cheerful despite the early hour. Mornings don't bother him. Never have, never will. In fact, the crisp air and the sight of the sun rising in the distant is something that has always enjoyed.

Edward lets out a grunt that may be a returned greeting or may be something else entirely. He blinks up at his younger brother, still half-asleep, and then turns back to stare into his mug. Watches the dark brown swirl with the white, sugar dissolving in the heat, and then takes a swig of it.

Alphonse just rolls his light brown eyes, and ruffles the other boys hair. Despite their age difference, Edward is several inches shorter then he is. When he is sitting, he looks like nothing more than a child.

"Such a morning person you are." he says with a small laugh, then he sits down at the table across from Edward and begins to eat.

-x-x-x-

Edward and Alphonse meet up at the corner store every morning. Both have changed out of their work clothes and pulled on something more school appropriate, as it won't do to go to school looking like they have just come from work. No one but their family and the principle know that they have jobs, after all.

Niether wants the pity of their teachers or their classmates. They don't need it.

Today, Alphonse has pulled on a bright purple tee-shirt and some jeans, dressed simple but happy with the outfit. It complements his short brown hair and large, golden-brown eyes. It suits him.

Edward wears the same thing that he always does. Black pants tucked into heavy boots. A black tank-top covered with a long, red jacket. White gloves and golden hair pulled back into a braid - one that has to be re-done by Alphonse in the bathroom before the two are able to start their walk to school.

They are almost to the large building when Alphonse finally turns a small frown onto his brother, dissaproval shining in his eyes.

"What?" Edward asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Brother...It's almost summer. You should start leaving your jacket at home." Alphonse tells him, tone slightly scolding.

Edward just snorts. They go through this every year and, really, he should have been expecting it. The younger Elric is always worried about him during the summer - and for good reason, though Edward won't admit it.

Last year alone, he fainted from the heat twice. The blisters that formed around his automail ports had almost sent him back into the hospital.

"Just leave it be, Al." Edward tells him, shaking his head. "I'm not going in there without it. You _know_ how I feel about it!"

And Alphonse does. Knows full well why his elder brother doesn't want to inform the rest of the school about his mechanical limbs. But he still worries and he still sees the sheen of sweat that is already starting to form on the blond's forehead.

-x-x-x-

It is early August the first time that Edward is sent to the nurse's office that year. Heat-induced nausea. A common occurance for him, honestly, and the nurse merely shakes her head at him when he wanders in.

"Back again, Ed?" she asks, eyes raking over the young boy's pallid skin.

Edward gives her a weak smile. "Hey, Miss Gracia. Got a chair I can sit in for a bit? Mr. Armstrong kicked me out of class again."

Gracia tuts slightly and shakes her head, then motions towards one of the beds that line the back wall of her office. "Help yourself, dear. You know where they are. I'll get you an ice-pack and something to drink."

Muttering out a _thank you_, Edward follows the nurses instruction and makes his way over to one of the stark white beds. Distaste crosses his eyes as he climbs onto it, instantly kicking the covers to the floor.

He cannot stand these beds and this office. It is too white, too sterile, too much like the hospital he spent so long in. It reminds him that he's weak.

Yet, time and time again, he finds himself coming here. Granted, Miss Gracia is always nice to him. Didn't even give his automail limbs a second glance the first time he wandered into her domain. In some ways, she reminds him of his mother.

And that, he has decided, is why he doesn't ever take up her offers on driving him home.

-x-x-x-

"Alright class! I'm going to be passing your graded tests out, so sit tight!" Maes says cheerfully, giving his class a grin. They groan. He laughs - and then he is sweeping through the room, laying a piece of paper face-down on each students desk.

They wait until he returns to his own desk, taking a seat behind it, before turning them over. Some groan, others grin and high-five.

Edward turns his paper over almost uncaringly. Science is one of his best classes and he already knows what grade he got. Has known for days now, because he went to the library and double-checked his answers.

A bright red _100%_ shines up at him when he flips the sheet over. Edward cannot help the small grin he gives their teacher.

Maes grins right back.

-x-x-x-

When Edward is sixteen, he gets himself a second job. This one is after school, working at the Mega-Market. The store is small, despite it's name, and is family run. Has been for several years now, ever since the Havok's moved into town.

They hire him as a cashier. Twenty senze an hour. He even gets discounts when he buys food there. So, of course, the two Elric boys become regular customers.

-x-x-x-

It turns out that Edward goes to school with his bosses child. They share three classes, though he cannot remember ever speaking to the taller boy. Then again, he doesn't speak to many of his fellow students. Just tries to get through the day as quickly as he can with the best grades he can pull off.

Curiousty gets the best of him one day though and, on his younger brother's insistance, Edward buys himself a bottle of orange juice and drops himself down at one of the tables, right across from Jean Havok.

The tawny haired boy looks up from his conversation with some other kid, blue eyes widening in slight recognition. "Hey! I know you!"

It takes a lot of effort for Edward to _not_ snort. Instead, he just gives a small nod. "Yeah. It's Jean, right?"

Jean grimaces and the boy beside him, with dark hair and dark eyes and pale skin, snickers. "Just call me Havok, man. I can't stand my name."

Once again, Edward gives a slight nod - and it has suddenly hit him that he doesn't feel comfortable talking to people aside from his brother. Doesn't even know what to say, honestly, and so he opens his lunchbag instead. Pulls out his sandwhich and the banana that he is required to eat everyday, and does his best to ignore the slight quirk of the unnamed boys eyebrows.

He leaves before lunch is over.

-x-x-x-

The next day, Edward takes up his normal seat between Alphonse and Nina.


	8. It Will Be Too Late

A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, chickas! I'm glad that you all enjoy my work here, and I hope that you'll continue to let me know what you think. :D

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"You're not going to school today, Al." Edward says, voice serious and eyes stern. His arms are crossed over his chest and he is staring down the other boy, who is still in his bed and half-covered by the light blue sheets.

"Brother, don't be so ridiculous! It's just a cold!" Alphonse insisits, and a moment later he gives a harsh cough. The noise is sharp and dry, and he winces as the air rakes against his suddenly sensitive throat.

Edward just stares at him. Several long minutes pass, and then the younger of the two sighs and turns his eyes away - and Edward has to resist the urge not to grin, because he always wins these arguements. _Always_.

"Good. I've already called and cancelled with your boss. She says to make sure you get better soon and that Kimblee will cover your shift until your feeling better." Edward explains. Then, before his brother can even begin to protest, he is rushing from the room and down the stairs.

Halfway down them, his automail knee locks up. He stumbles, the ankle of his good leg twisting when he does, and it is by pure luck that he manages to grab onto the railing and keep himself from falling down the stairs.

"Shit!" he pants, eyes clenched shut in pain. The nerves and muscles in his right leg are on fire - and for a moment he is stuck in the heat-filled place of his dreams, where everything is dark and burning and he is utterly alone.

Then he forces himself to open his eyes, takes a deep breath, and gently puts weight on his flesh leg. It holds. Relieved, he lets out a sigh and starts back down the stairs.

This time, he walks.

-x-x-x-

"Alright class, give me your attention." Maes claps his hands together, grinning out at his students. Behind him, the chalkboard is filled with a diagram of the human body. Several of the different parts have been circled with bright blue chalk, other is dark green, most in white.

Edward grins. Finally! This is something that can make the day a little better. If there is one thing that he knows, it is the human body and how different things can affect it. A lesson like this will be the perfect thing to get his mind off of his younger brother, who once again was forced to stay home.

This is the fifth day in one week - and, really, is it a wonder that Edward is starting to worry? Is it a wonder that his aunt has already made a doctor's appointment and that Winry is taking off from her own schooling so that she can stay home with Alphonse?

He doesn't think it is.

As soon as most of the class have stopped chattering, Maes motions to the board behind him. "This, students, is the human body! I'm sure that you recognized it and, if you didn't, well, then you may be in the wrong grade."

Several kids snicker. Edward grins just a little more.

"Today is the start of our semester project. It will count for fourty percent of your grade so, Barry, you may want to pay attention." Maes nods pointedly in the direction of the dozing Vance child, who gives him a sickly sweet expression of innocence. A pause, and then the teacher nods in the direction of another student. "I'm talking to you too, Roy."

Edward doesn't have to look in the other boys direction to know what he'll see. An arrogant expression on a pale face, dark eyes set in annoyed indifference. No doubt he will wave at Maes, grin, and then go right back to whatever non-school related activity he had already been doing.

The very thought of this other boy makes the smile slip from Edward's face. He doesn't even have to look in Roy's direction for the scowl to form on his lips instead.

-x-x-x-

With Alphonse not at school, Edward has no choice but to find a different table to sit at. the past few days, he has found empty seats and eaten alone. Yet, today, when he gets into the cafeteria he is met by the sight of packed tables and full seats.

So, trying hard to mask his nervousness with a look of indifference, he makes his way over to the table that Jean normally sits at.

The tawny haired man is there, as per usual. On one side of him is Roy, on the other a blonde girl whose name Edward has never learned. There is also a boy with glasses, who goes by the name of Kain, and a very familiar face that Edward isn't sure he wants to see that day.

Heymans Breda, who is one of Jean's closest friends.

Just like he did that day so many weeks ago, Edward sits down at the table without a word. Jean looks up, grins at him, then goes back to talking with Roy. Kain blinks, the girl keeps eating, and Breda frowns.

So, just like last time, he opens up his lunchbag without a word. Pulls out his sandwhich and his banana and starts to eat.

Halfway through, Roy breaks off from his conversation with Jean and turns to him. "Is that all you ever bring?"

Edward freezes, sandwhich halfway to his mouth. It is what he always brings, actually. The only thing he has brought for lunch since the day that he was let out of the hospital - the banana is required and the sandwhich, peanut butter and jelly today, is cheap and quick to make.

Lowering his lunch, Edward scowls at the other boy. "What's it to you?"

Silence, then amusement - and the sight of Roy's lips quirking up like that sends a jolt of rage through Edward.

"Just curious, really." Roy says, waving one hand through the air. Indifference once more settles on his face and he half turns back to face Jean. "I simply find it amusing that you're my age and still bring your own lunch."

The girl, it seems, is the only one paying attention enough to see the change on Edward's face. Embarressment dances across his cheeks for a moment, then his face twists into one of anger and distaste.

"Fuck you!" Edward snarls - and everyone turns to look at him as he snatches up the remains of his lunch and bolts from the table, dissapearing quickly into the crowded lunchroom.

"Way to go, Roy." Jean says, shaking his head.

Roy just frowns.

-x-x-x-

Edward doesn't have to ask around to find the answer to his unasked question. He can see it in the way that Roy walks, in the brand-name clothes that he wears, and in the cocky smirk that always seems to dance across his face.

Roy Mustang has never felt the cold that comes from being without parents. Never felt the burden of knowing someone depends on him. Never been in so much pain he doesn't know what to do or what to say or who to go too.

Roy Mustang lives in Uptown Central, with a loving family and hands that have never known a long days work.


End file.
